


Stardust and Lovers

by Inner_Devil



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stardust, Incomplete, M/M, Star!Sherlock, mention of Moriarty brothers, mention of murder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2018-11-10 11:52:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11126484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inner_Devil/pseuds/Inner_Devil
Summary: John Watson was born without knowing his mother, raised by a father who tried his best. When in his teens, he falls for Mary Morstan, a woman with expensive tastes, he decides to get her the perfect birthday gift so she'll marry him. He'll bring her a star. But when all is not what it seems, John's life takes an entirely different path.





	1. An Adventure

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Stardust AU fanfiction  
> Forgive me, it's been a little while since I've seen this movie, so I don't remember every detail. I remember the basic plot, so hopefully this goes well!

John Hamish Watson had no idea who his mother was. All he knew was that his father had met her while traveling and they'd had a brief night together that had led to his conception. His mother couldn't keep him and so he ended up being raised by his father. He'd worked nearly his entire life to help support them, since his father could only do so much. But as he grew, he became more and more attractive. The only trouble was he hardly had a dime, so no woman in her right mind would go after him. That didn't bother him much until he fell for one Mary Morstan.

She was just a head shorter than John with beautiful blonde hair framing her rounded features. The stunning girl had caught John's eye, as well as the attention of every eligible bachelor in town. But John never gave up in his advances, even when she blatantly chose another man. One evening on his way home from work, he stopped by her house yet again. 

"Not again, John," Mary sighed, a few of her friends behind her giggling as she opened the door.

"Good evening, Mary. Lovely to see you again, as always," John greeted with a smile. He tried to engage her in some sort of conversation, but to no avail. And when his competition appeared, he ended up feeling his temper raise. 

"I'll show you. Mary, I'm going to bring back the best birthday present you've ever had. And then you'll have to marry me!" john declared. And he knew just what to get her: a star. A star had fallen just a little while ago and he was certain he knew where it had landed. He would find it and bring it back to Mary. And then she'd finally marry him. It would be perfect. So off he set on his adventure.

"Sorry, mate. Not a chance," Greg answered. He'd been guarding the Wall for ages and he never let anyone pass.

"Come on. I need to. There's something out there and I have to get it, for this girl," John insisted.

"Nope. No one passes the wall," Greg told him firmly.

John tried and tried to reason with him, but to no avail. And then he figured it out. He managed to sneak around the man and get over the Wall before he noticed, then set out to find the fallen star. What he didn't realize though was what stars really are. And out in the woods, in the crater where the star had fallen, was the star himself: Sherlock Holmes.

Far from what one would expect of a star, he had dark curly hair and stunning blue eyes that almost seemed to change color. His pale, alabaster skin drew most in. But right now, it made him appear lifeless and cold. That is, until he woke and sat up. glancing around, he realized what must have happened. Something had hit him and he'd fallen from the sky and.....damn! He'd broken his ankle. Well, no use struggling to get out of this hole now. There was no chance until this was healed. So he glanced around, trying to plot a way out for when he was healed, when he saw something shimmering beside him. Reaching over, he discovered a necklace with a single jewel in the center. Having no idea what its significance could be, he put it on and hid it in his shirt. And there he waited until......

BAM! Suddenly someone slid down into the hole and slammed right into Sherlock.

"What is your problem?!" Sherlock snapped, hissing as he gripped his injured ankle.

John was absolutely stunned. What was a man doing down here? And more importantly, where was his star? He looked around, ignoring the other completely as he searched for the star.

"First you slide right into me, now you won't even talk to me? Well you could at least tell me your name," Sherlock scoffed. "It's obvious you came from the other side of the Wall, right? And you're searching for something. Judging by the size of this hole and where you're from, I think it's safe to say you're searching for a star, aren't you?"

John stopped dead in his tracks and turned to the other, brow furrowed. "Who told you that?" he asked.

"No one," the brunet answered with a shrug. "I deduced it. You learn quite a bit when you have so long to watch the people down here. You're all so silly. That's a much kinder word for stupid, isn't it? Not that it matters to me what you think."

"Amazing," the blond muttered in astonishment. 

Sherlock paused, looking over at the other. "That's not what they usually say....."

"What do they normally say?" the human asked.

"Piss off," the star replied, then laughed. "The other stars don't know what to do when I can tell them everything about everyone. Many of them don't care about humans anymore. But they're more interesting to watch and deduce."

"Wait, wait, the other stars? But that means....." John started, eyes growing wide. "You're the star? But how?"

"Don't you know what stars are?" Sherlock chuckled. "We're all like this. We look like humans, you could say. But we're a bit different as well. I'm sure you've heard the legends."

"Well of course, but I never thought.....come on. You have to come with me," John insisted, tugging on the star's wrist. 

"Excuse me? I don't have to go anywhere. And you haven't even asked my name, so why should I do anything with you?" Sherlock snapped once more, pulling his wrist back.

"Fine, what's your name?" John sighed.

"Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes," the star answered.

"I'm John Watson. Now come on," John insisted. Then came the rope. A thin, golden rope darted out from John's hand and tied itself around Sherlock's wrist. "You're going to be a gift for Mary, my true love."

Sherlock stared at the magic rope in disbelief, then scoffed. "But of course! Nothing says romance like the gift of a kidnapped, injured man!" 

John sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. "And what would you know about love?" he huffed.

"I.....well, admittedly, very little. It's never interested me. But I do know that it is unconditional. This woman, this....Mary, she seems to have plenty of conditions for you. So why bother? Just leave me in this hole and be on your way," Sherlock replied.

John rolled his eyes, then kneeled by Sherlock and set his leg straight out. Looking it over quietly, he nodded a bit. "It's a sprain. Don't worry. It'll heal on its own given time. But you can walk on it if needed, so let's go," he insisted, tugging on the chain. And Sherlock had no choice but to follow him out of the hole and on his journey.


	2. Star Hunting

Unbeknownst to John, he was far from the only person who wanted the star. Quite far from it, actually. As he attempted to make the long journey home so he could present his gift to Mary, numerous others had begun their search for the very star he dragged along with him. Three princes, as well as three witches, all desired the star for themselves. For you see, the star had something to offer each of them. For the witches, the star's heart was a delicacy. If consumed when the star was truly happy, it could give them incredible youth and beauty. But the star's heart was of little concern to the princes. What they desired was around the star's neck: the yellow topaz necklace their father had cast out of the castle. The first prince to find it and wear it around his own neck would become the new king of Stormhold. The princes had already killed off several of their other brothers, leaving only the three of them now.

The princes were James, Richard, and Jim. The last three surviving sons of King Moriarty of Stormhold. He was dying and would pass as soon as the new king had been named. Jim was the most ruthless of the three, as well as Richard's twin. His baby brother had lasted so long because Jim protected him from danger, deciding to avoid killing the one person who seemed to trust him completely. James, however, had no qualms about killing off his brothers. He had already poisoned and simply murdered several. 

The witches were Molly Hooper, Sally Donovan, and Irene Adler. Without the magic contained in a star's heart, they were all old, ugly hags. But as soon as even a sliver of the heart was consumed, they could be beautiful, vivacious women again. Unfortunately, it wasn't every night that a star fell. So when one did, they had to rush to get it. There was only enough left this time for one of them to make the journey, so Irene went. Eating what was left of the last star they'd captured, she regained her youthfulness and beauty before leaving to find the first fallen star for the past 200 years. Molly and Sally remained in their cottage, preparing for when the star would be brought to them for the removal of her heart.

* * *

James, Richard, and Jim all traveled quickly to find the star, ending up at the same inn for the night. Jim, knowing his elder brother had hired a woman for the night, slipped her a small vial containing a simple mixture before she entered his room.

"Believe me, lovely maiden, this will provide an evening you will never forget," he hummed. "It is a fine stiffener. Take it, as a gift."

The young woman, having nothing but the job she was paid for on her mind, accepted the gift with a smile and entered James the Elder's room. Slipping it into his drink before they began, she had no idea what it would do. The pair tumbled around the bed, losing their clothes as they went. Everything was as expected until the prince grunted and fell back, completely still and stiff.

"Sir?" the young woman asked gently, shaking his shoulder a bit. "Why, don't tell me you've finished already!"

But as she realized what had happened, she began to scream. Richard ran into the room, turning on the light and gasping when he saw his brother lying dead with the naked woman on top of him. 

"What's happened?" he asked as the woman gathered her clothes, still in tears. 

"He's dead!" she cried. "I didn't......I only came to spend the evening with him."

Richard furrowed his brow, picking up the bottle that had been left on the table. "What's this bottle?"

"Your other brother gave it to me," the woman explained as she dressed. "He claimed it was a wonderful stiffener and would provide a night I would never forget."

"Of course Jim would do something like this," Richard commented. Over the years, he'd grown more accustomed to his brother's murderous tendencies and they hardly shocked him now. "Where is he?"

"He's gone, my lord. Left early this morning," the woman told him.

Richard sighed, shaking his head. "Of course he did. I have to go then too."

"What about your other brothers?" she questioned.

"What other brothers?" Richard inquired. "Never mind, I need to catch up," he sighed, hurrying out of the room to gather his things. 

The woman soon realized that the forms she'd seen after the passing of James the Elder were not living brothers after all. They were the ghosts of the princes these three had killed in order to claim the throne. Screaming at the realization, she ran from the room and as far from the inn as she could.

* * *

 Making their way through the woods, Sherlock continued to grumble about his leg. John was growing weary, both from travel and from listening to Sherlock complain.

"I'm telling you, I can't keep walking for very long on this leg!" the star complained.

"And I'm telling you it's a sprain. You can rest as soon as we reach the next town," John huffed back at him. "Why'd you fall anyway? Trip over something?"

Sherlock huffed, rolling his eyes. "I did  _not_ trip. I was hit. In the side. By this," he explained, pulling out the necklace he'd hidden when he fell.

John looked it over, eyes widening a bit. "It looks like a topaz," he commented. "They're quite valuable."

"And now I must carry it about with me," Sherlock sighed.

"Why?" John questioned, but was soon quieted. Listening with the star, he heard a distant whinny followed by a roar. "It's coming from up ahead!"

"Ouch!" Sherlock yelped as John moved too fast and tugged at the chain. "Wait for me! This stupid chain's not that long!"

The pair snuck forward, not wanting to draw the attention of the two beasts causing such noise in the forest. Clearly something was wrong and John was determined to find out what it was. As they grew closer, he saw a beautiful white horse to his left and a massive golden lion to his right. Between them was an ornate crown made of gold, studded with red and blue stones. For some reason, the animals were fighting over it and clearly had been for quite some time. As both stopped to catch their breath, panting heavily, John caught sight of a long, ivory horn spiraling out from the horse's head. 

"The Lion and the Unicorn were fighting for the crown. The Lion beat the Unicorn all about the town...." John murmured, recalling an old nursery rhyme. It seemed they all came true past the Wall. 

"We have to do something," Sherlock insisted. The usually cold star was rather passionate when it came to something like this. "The unicorn is hurt. The lion will kill it!"

"And let it kill me too?!" John huffed in exasperation. 

"Quick, while they're getting their breath back. You'll be fine," Sherlock told him.

John sighed. "All right, stay here," he murmured, inching out into the meadow and between the two massive beasts. "Here, kitty, kitty. Here's your nice crown," he cooed as though talking to a kitten, picking up the crown. "See? Now go.....fetch!" he shouted, throwing the crown as far away as he could. The lion ran off to follow it, roaring in triumph when it was captured. Turning to the unicorn, John reached out gently. "And what about you, hm?" he hummed softly.

The unicorn snorted a bit as though offended and John couldn't help but think about the derisive man he was dragging along. As the animal whinnied, Sherlock approached slowly.

"We can't leave it, the poor thing," he murmured, reaching out gently to pet it's long snout. 

"It's wounds aren't too deep. You could probably ride it and stay off that leg," John suggested. "That would help with the healing and speed up our travel."

"Ride a unicorn?" Sherlock scoffed as though it was the most absurd thing he'd ever heard.

The unicorn let out a snide harrumph and stamped it's hoof. Clearly it wasn't thrilled by the idea either.

"Please," John sighed, turning to the unicorn. "Will you carry him? He's hurt."

The unicorn snorted, but kneeled by Sherlock. Though the star was a bit shocked, he managed to climb up onto the creature's back with a bit of effort and seated himself comfortably, holding onto the mane as the unicorn stood once more.

"There. And I can walk beside you both," John declared, then groaned a bit as his stomach growled.

"What's wrong with you?" Sherlock snorted.

"I'm hungry. Aren't you?" the blond huffed.

Sherlock just shrugged. "We stars eat only darkness. We drink only light. So I'm not hungry."

John rolled his eyes, but glanced around and spotted a town not far away. "Look. There's a village just over that hill. I'll go and get some food. You wait here. The unicorn will protect you if anyone comes."

"Forgetting something?" Sherlock scoffed, raising his bound wrist. John attempted to remove it, but with no luck.

"Maybe there's a magic word," Sherlock laughed sarcastically.

"Well I don't know any other than 'Please'," John shot back, then looked down as he heard a tinkling. The rope released itself from his wrist, staying bound to Sherlock. "Well all right then. You stay here. I'll have to take you at your honor as a star that you won't run off."

"Please. With this ankle? I'll hardly be running anywhere anytime soon," the star insisted, holding the other end of the rope as John left. 

* * *

 Attached to a similar chain some ways away was a beautiful bird with brightly colored feathers. A former princess lured from her home as a child and enslaved by the witch known as Madame Janine, she was confined to her bird form now and without speech. She'd earned this punishment nearly twenty years ago when she gave away expensive merchandise just to sleep with a cute buyer. But the witch didn't know her slave had given birth to a young boy and snuck him back to his father one night, behind the safety of the Wall.

This particular evening, the witch was preparing dinner when a visitor appeared outside her caravan. The bird squawked, alerting her to the presence of another. The hag-looking woman easily recognized her own kind, especially considering a woman of such beauty was approaching in a cart pulled by goats. 

"Before you say anything, I must tell you I am nothing but a harmless old woman. I've never harmed a soul and seeing such a grand and terrifying lady such as yourself fills me with dread," Janine greeted, head bowed.

"I am not here to harm you," Irene insisted as she left her cart.

"And how am I supposed to know that is the truth?" the hag demanded.

"I swear to you by the rules and constraints of the sisterhood to which we both belong that I mean you no harm, and shall treat you as if you were my own guest," Irene swore as she approached.

"Well then, that's good enough for me, dear. Come, sit down. Dinner will be ready in just a bit," Janine told her with a welcoming smile. As the women sat together, they shared tales of transforming people into animals and other such spells. As Irene revealed her own knowledge of Janine's past, the other witch began to get more suspicious. But soon dinner was ready, the rabbit removed from the spit and split in half.

"Would you like heads or tails?" Janine offered.

"Your choice," the beautiful woman insisted.

"Heads it is then. I'll partake of the rump then, nothing but dull meat to nibble," she hummed, splitting it between the two of them. "Apologies, dear, I don't have any salt. But try this. I think you'll find it more than adequate. It's my own recipe, you know. A little thyme, a bit of basil..."

Irene accepted the offered mixture of spices, spreading it over her hare before taking a bite. "Perfectly palatable," she commented, licking her lips. "I can taste the thyme and basil, but there's another more unusual taste that I can't quite seem to place."

Janine smirked. "Oh, yes, that's quite an interesting herb. It grows only in Garamond, on an island in the middle of a lake. It tastes simply delicious with all manner of fish and meats. And it has the interesting property of causing those who taste it to speak nothing but the truth for a number of hours."

"You dare feed me Limbus grass?!" Irene snapped, glaring at the women. Janine just cackled.

"It would seem so, dearie. Now why don't you tell me where you're off to in such a hurry?" she hummed.

"I'm searching for a star which fell on the other side of the mountain. When I find it, I will take my knife and cut the heart out of it while it lives, while it's heart is still it's own. For the heart of a living star is a sovereign remedy against all the snares of time and age. My sisters wait for me to return," Irene answered, though clearly against her will.

"The heart of a star, is it?" Janine hummed curiously. "Such a prize, and all for me. And as soon as I taste it, my youth will return. And all that's left, I'll sell at the Great Market at Wall!"

"You will do no such thing," Irene warned darkly.

Janine laughed in disbelief. "And how will you stop me? You swore an oath as my guest, darling. There is nothing you can do to harm me."

Lightening flashed and thunder crashed in the distance as Irene's anger swelled, glaring at the witch before her. "Oh, there is plenty I can do to harm you," she snarled. "For you have stolen knowledge you did not earn. But not to worry. It shall not profit you. For you shall be unable to see the star, unable to perceive it, unable to touch it, to find it, to kill it!"

Janine's eyes grew wide as the spell was cast, fearing this great woman. "W-who are you?" she stammered.

"When last we met, I ruled with my sisters in Carnadine, before it was lost," she answered easily.

"Impossible! You.....You are long dead!" Janine argued fearfully.

"They have said the Lilim were dead for ages, but they have always lied. The squirrel has not yet found the acorn that will grow into the oak that will be cut to form the cradle of the child that will grow to slay  _me_ ," Irene told her firmly as she rose from her seat. "From the moment I leave, you will forget ever having seen me. You shall forget all of this, even my curse, but the knowledge of it shall vex and irritate you."

With that, Irene returned to her chariot and rode away, off to find the star once more. Madame Janine was left behind, dazed from her meeting with the far more powerful witch.

"Why, whatever possessed me to cut that hare in two and toss half away? What could I have ever been thinking off? Must be getting old, bird," she huffed, starting to clean up. Hearing a bit of chattering and squeaking, she looked over and saw a squirrel. "And as stupid as that squirrel. Look at him. Digging that acorn he's found into the grassy bank. He'll forget where he's put it, you know, and it'll grow into another oak tree.....Ah, we'd best be going before we forget where we're headed."

* * *

 "I've got some hay for the unicorn. Do they eat hay?" John called as he returned to the oak tree where he'd left Sherlock and the great beast. He was eating an apple, though it was hardly the only thing he'd had to eat. Feeling much better, he'd missed the hoofbeats disappearing into the distance. Sherlock the Star along with the unicorn they'd saved were gone. 

John cursed himself for being so stupid as to believe that the kidnapped star would stay where he'd left them. "He promised.......He was right. I'm an idiot. A numskull. I let the Fallen Star escape! My one shot at getting Mary! And now I'm lost and alone in the land of the Faerie!"

* * *

Irene's goat-drawn chariot was moving quickly towards the mountains, though they slowed as the sun began to set. She stopped at the base of the mountains, a predatory smile spread across her lips. If looks could kill, this one certainly would as it was enough to freeze anyone in their tracks. Taking a deep breath, she sighed with pleasure. 

"I can smell it on the wind. The Star is travelling West, right to me!" she laughed chillingly. This was just too perfect. All she'd really have to do is wait.


	3. Paths Converge

Richard halted his horse-drawn carriage on a forest road in the dead of night to have dinner, on the path to find the Topaz before his brother, Jim. As he ate, he decided to cast the rune stones to discover the location of the Topaz, in the event that his brother doesn't find them first and kill him. As he cast the stones, he smiled.

"Ah...whoever holds the Power of Stormhold is coming this way, into these mountains. I can intercept them there," he hummed to himself. 

Little did he know that above him on the mountain was the witch Irene in her chariot, seeking the same treasure for her own reasons. 

"Yes, I'm right...The Star is coming this way," she murmured. Departing from her cart, she sharpened her knives in preparation. One was a small cleaver, specifically designed for cutting through the rib cage. The other was a more dagger-like blade, designed for cutting out the heart. 

"There. Perfect for my guest. Now for our trap...." she thought aloud, then turned to the goats. "Right then. You shall become an innkeeper. And you, a pot maid," she decided, casting her spell on each one of the goats and smiling as they became human. "As for your inn..." She turned to the cart and flicked her wrist, but nothing happened. "Oh, I must be getting old! Inanimate objects were always so much harder to change. Their souls are so much older and stupider and harder to persuade." As she continued trying, she finally managed to turn the cart into a proper inn. "There. That's better." She was soon breathless from the effort of it though. "I must be getting old," she sighed.

"What shall we do now, mistress?" the innkeeper bleated. 

"Get inside. My treasure is riding this way. We simply have to ensure that he will come inside. You are Billy, the owner of this tavern. I shall be your wife. And this dull-eyed girl is Sarah, the pot-maid. Come now," she insisted, ushering them inside.

* * *

Having lost his captive Star and feeling sorry for himself, John rested under a copper beech tree. He was awoken by the sound of a carriage and hoofbeats approaching and sat up with a small groan.

"Whoah!" the driver called as a branch fell in the road. He pulled the reins, stopping the horses just in time. Hopping down, he huffed at the fallen branch and was considering how to move it on his own when John approached.

"Coachman? Could you use some help?" he offered, having seen the issue.

"There was no wing, no storm. This branch simply fell, terrified the horses. Could you help me move it?" the man asked.

"Of course," John answered with a nod, completely unaware that he was speaking to a prince. In fact, it was Richard, the younger brother of the murderous Jim. Together, the pair managed to toss the branch aside into some bushes.

"Sir, could you give me a ride through the forest? I'm afraid I've lost my way," John admitted once they'd finished.

"I don't take passengers," Richard told him firmly as he climbed back into the driver's seat of the carriage.

"But without me, you'd still be stuck here!" the blond argued.

Richard considered it for a moment. "Perhaps there will be more fallen branches to move..." he thought aloud. "All right then. Sit up here in the passenger seat beside me."

"Thank you," John replied, eagerly climbing up and taking his seat before the carriage took off once more down the road.

* * *

Sherlock was thoroughly upset by this point. In the mountains, it was raining heavily and he was soaked to the bone. He'd been riding for what felt like ages and was growing tired and irritable. 

"Stop," he commanded the beast with a sigh. "I cannot continue to ride like this. I'm soaked and tired, and surely you are as well. There's an Inn just up ahead. You rest here and I'll stay the night there."

Just as he was about to dismount, the door to the Inn opened and a beautiful woman appeared. "Hello there, dearie. Oh, you poor thing. You must feel absolutely dreadful. Come inside. There's a fire blazing in the hearth and enough hot water for a bath that will surely make you feel better," she hummed.

"I....I'll need help coming in. My leg is injured," Sherlock answered. 

"Oh, of course, you poor mite. I'll have my husband, Billy, carry you inside. And there's hay and fresh water in the stables for your beast," she assured, calling her "husband" to the door.

"Where shall we put the beast?" he bleated.

"In the stable, dear, and then help our lovely guest inside for a bath," Irene told the man. "I'll draw her such a nice bath, I will," she added as she went back inside.

"Thank you, madam," Sherlock commented, allowing the man to help him inside and take the unicorn to the stables where it would be dry and well fed.

"Where shall I put our guest?" Billy questioned as he brought Sherlock inside.

"Just there, by the fire," Irene told him as she swirled some bath water for him.

Billy nodded and left Sherlock by the fire, muttering a bit as he left the room. "The unicorn's in the farthest stall in the stable."

"Very good. Now out of those wet clothes, you poor dear, and we'll get you into a nice warm bath," Irene insisted, helping him out of his clothes. "I'll just wring these out and we'll have them good as new. Oh, and such a pretty jewel around your neck. And an interesting chain around your wrist."

"Oh....thank you, miss," Sherlock replied, though something felt off. He left his bad leg hanging outside the tub, not wanting the splint to get wet as he relaxed. "Much better."

"Tell me, love, how does your heart feel?" Irene asked with a smile.

"My heart? I've been reliably informed I don't have one," Sherlock answered simply. Irene just laughed.

"Oh, you silly man. That can't be true, now can it? Tell me, honestly, how does it feel?" she insisted.

"Well....I suppose it feels.....happier. Less troubled. More easy," Sherlock told her.

"Good, good," Irene answered, heading towards the door. "Just give us a shout when you want to hop out and I'll give you a hand."

As the woman began heading for the kitchen, Sherlock shouted after her, "That's all right, I don't really......eat food...." He quieted by the end and shrugged it off, settling in the tub and content with the knowledge that there were still those who wouldn't want to harm him.

* * *

John, meanwhile, was riding beside Richard and occasionally glancing back inside the carriage. He was convinced that someone was there, though the driver hardly seemed to acknowledge them. Five grey gentlemen sat inside the carriage and bickered with one another and finally, John got up the courage to ask about them.

"There is no one inside the carriage," Richard replied simply. 

"There is! I see them!" John insisted.

"No, there isn't," Richard answered, a bit more firmly. "You were sleeping under a tree. You must be suffering from exhaustion and hallucinations."

John felt fine, but simply accepted the explanation to avoid losing his ride out of the forest. As they continued, the horses began to act odd as they approached a new path on the mountain.

"The horses are reluctant to take this mountain path. But it is here that I will find what I seek," Richard muttered.

"If it's not too forward of me to ask, sir...what are you searching for?" John asked curiously.

"My future. My destiny. My right to rule. And you?" Richard returned.

"There is a young man who I have offended greatly. I hope to catch up to him and make amends for my behavior," John responded. 

"Hm," Richard commented, but said no more as they continued on the path.

"Such mountains!" John sighed in amazement, enjoying the view despite the storm.

"Such rain! You should get inside the coach. No point in both of us getting soaked," Richard told him.

"No, no," John insisted, shaking his head. "I'll stay up here with you. Two sets of eyes and two pairs of hands may just be the saving grace of us."

"You are a fool, but I appreciate it," Richard chuckled. "I'm Richard. The Lord Richard, actually."

"John. John Watson. Pleasure to meet you," John introduced.

"Listen then, John Watson. There is a man who looks identical to me, but much more savage and thinner than I. He is called Jim. If you ever see him, run and hide. Should you oppose him, he will not hesitate to kill you. Or perhaps, to use you as his instrument to kill me and claim the throne," Richard warned.

"He sounds like a dangerous man," the ex-soldier replied.

"He is the most dangerous man you will ever meet," the prince told him, then began glancing around. "Hm. If you ask me, there is something most unnatural about this storm."

"Look, just ahead there. Is that a light?" John noticed. "And look, a sign.....'The Chariot'. It's an inn!"

"Perfect. And there's stables. I'll pay for a pair of rooms for the night," Richard offered.

"Thank you. And I'll stable and groom the horses. They'll catch a dreadful cold otherwise," John added.

"You're a good lad. I'll send out some burnt ale for you later," Richard assured as they pulled up outside.

* * *

Inside the inn, Sherlock had left the bath and accepted a robe offered by the innkeeper's wife, limping into a chair to relax. He certainly felt much better, but hardly failed to notice the set of knives on another table nearby. 

"My, what sharp knives. They seem to be made of glass, if I'm not mistaken," he commented.

"Well nothing gets past you!" Irene chuckled. "These are very old indeed, and made of obsidian. Let me show you--"

She was cut off by a banging at the door, followed by Lord Richard yelling for service.

"Damn," Irene muttered, putting the knives back. "Well that's all right. The knives will keep for now. After all, you're hardly planning on going anywhere until the rain lets up, are you dear?"

Sherlock shook his head and smiled. "No, not until tomorrow if the storm is gone," he assured. This certainly seemed interesting to him.

Irene smiled and nodded, going to answer the door. John had already gone to the stables with the horses and Richard was thoroughly soaked.

"It's about time, woman! Didn't you hear me?" Richard huffed, in an abnormally bad mood after the night he'd had.

"So sorry," Irene replied. "It's been such a noisy night. Wine, milord?"

"I'm afraid not. Until I see my brother's corpse on the ground, I shall drink only my own wine and eat food I have prepared myself. So if I might trouble you to place this bottle of wine by the fire to take the chill from it?" Richard asked, handing her a bottle. "Now, I have a companion who is attending to the horses and has sworn no such oath. If you could send him some burnt ale to take the chill from his bones. I'll pay."

"I'll send the pot-maid. Sarah?" she called. "A burnt ale to the lad in the stable, and be quick about it."

Sarah soon was bringing a mug of burnt ale to John as he groomed the horses. He fussed gently as one in particular gave him trouble, but accepted the ale easily. 

"Do you have another guest here? I hear an extra horse," he commented.

"Strange looking horse, if you ask me," Sarah commented before heading back inside the inn.

As she left, John heard the other guest's horse whinny and kick a few stalls down.

"All right now, lad. Let's see what your problem is," John hummed, going to see the horse. "Let's see if we can't find some warm oats and bran for--" He was cut off as he saw it was the unicorn that had been carrying the Star. As he opened the stall, the unicorn moved to block his exit. "The Star is here! He is the other guest! You have to let me past! I need to talk to him!" he insisted, but the beast refused to move, instead sniffing at the mug of burnt ale. "What is it? Is something wrong?" John asked, groaning as the unicorn stuck its horn in his drink. "Oooh, that's a waste," he huffed, but frowned and watched as the ale began to turn a sickly green and bubble. He recalled a story his mother had told him as a child about the horn of a unicorn. A powerful sovereign against poison indeed. "Poison....my drink was poisoned.....and Lord Richard and the Star are inside the inn! Let me through, please!"

Finally, the unicorn moved to let him through and John ran back to the inn.

* * *

Inside the inn, Richard warmed himself by the fire as his own wine was uncorked and warmed. As he enjoyed his drink, Sherlock approached and took a seat opposite him.

"How do you do, sir?" Sherlock greeted as he sat.

"Very well.....but....that stone around your neck," Richard commented, brow furrowed.

"Yes?" Sherlock asked, raising a brow.

"It is my father's Topaz. Mine now. You carry the Power of Stormhold," the prince explained.

"Well, ask me for it and I'll give it to you. I'll be glad to be done with this thing," Sherlock scoffed.

"Now, now, I'll not have you bothering the other guests, milord," Irene insisted. But Richard has already noticed several things amiss.

"I recognize other things here too. For instance, those knives on the table top. There are tattered scrolls in the vaults of Stormhold in which they are named. They are from the first age of the world," he revealed. Not long after, John came running in with the unicorn right outside.

"Richard! They tried to poison me!" John announced, causing Richard to jump to his feet and reach for his belt. But the prince found nothing.

"My sword--it's in the carriage--" Richard realized, eyes wide.

Irene was a step ahead though, pulling out a knife of her own. "Here's an edge for you, meddler," she snapped, jumping forward and slicing Richard's neck quickly. 

"You killed him!" Sherlock gasped, getting to his feet.

"Yes, and you're next! Billy, grab him!" Irene shouted. But the unicorn charged in, rushing straight for the innkeeper. The man, formerly a goat, charged right back and soon found himself speared on the horn of the unicorn. As the witch continued to fight, her only other servant was soon killed by the great beast as well. It protected them well while John worked to light the candle he'd been given before he'd left. A Babylon candle. When lit, if he focused on where he wanted go, it could take them anywhere. If he didn't, it would take them somewhere that could be better or worse. Just as he got it lit, Irene charged at them with her knife. But the unicorn charged back and the pair speared one another. Irene was stabbed in the shoulder, but the unicorn was mortally wounded, stabbed in the eye and crying as it fell to the ground. Sherlock and John escaped with his candle and the inn disappeared. Stuck in the rain with her magic fading, Irene couldn't help but cry for a moment. It only got worse as her sisters chose that moment to communicate in the reflection of the rain water and unicorn blood puddled nearby.

"Where is the star?" Molly asked.

"What have you done with him?" Sally demanded.

"I came so close..." Irene sighed. 

"You failed?" Molly huffed.

"Look at you! You took the last of the youth we had saved and you've squandered it!" Sally complained.

"I cannot find him in my mind. It's as if he's no longer in Faerie," Irene insisted.

"No, no.....he's still here. But he's headed for the Market at Wall," Molly explained.

"Should he cross the wall and enter the world of things as they are, he will become in an instant cold and dead. Of no use to us," Sally sighed.

"Then I'll wait at Diggory's Dyke. Everyone headed to the Wall must past through there," Irene decided.

"Then what are you waiting for?" Sally pressed.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos, comments, and bookmarks make my day!


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